Tea Stained Pictures
by bleiddianmusic
Summary: Shikamaru Nara, twenty-one, decides to open a tea shop in a dysfunctional part of the city, hoping to find there a certain kind of cure. [AU]
1. みちゆき

**Disclaimer**: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto.

Hello there! This is the first time I write a story including Naruto's characters. It's exciting, somehow! I still remember the day I've bought the first book by myself in a small manga shop of my hometown. It was over ten years ago. It was about time to do something with it!

Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this story, from this small introduction to the later chapters. _This T-rating will soon find an explanation and may turn into an M-rating at some point, due to the mature themes this story contains._

* * *

**First Cup – みちゆき**

He opened the window and exhaled slowly, the smoke of his cigarette escaping his young lungs. How he hated it all. The smell, the taste. He had no idea why he had once come to this, or when it all started. The day before, a month before, seasons before. Time was but an elastic rope Shikamaru danced on, merely waiting for the day he'd meet the ground.

The reflection of his body in the window glass, on his left, showed him he had finally took back the weight he had lost the day he lost himself as a whole. His mind was still another story. Inhaling his cigarette, he let it rest between his lips as he adjusted his long black hair, tied it into a braid falling onto his back. The smoke cloud he breathed out hazed his silhouette and hid his dark brown eyes.

"I'll never get used to it, you know. My own son smoking like that… It's a bit depressing."

Shikamaru smirked at his father's comment. Shikaku sure knew how to make him feel guilty, yet amused.

The man in his forties was standing behind the empty counter of the room they were in. It clearly looked like a small café, two large windows squeezing an old wooden door opening toward what appeared to be a busy street on that Monday morning. There were two tables and six chairs separating Shikamaru from the counter. Behind his father, shelves carried no goods. Open boxes full of tea packs and various cutleries, cups and dishes were covering the floor. It sure was going to be a long day.

"Sorry, dad," Shikamaru replied. "I don't feel like quitting it just yet."

"It's fine. You're a grown man, after all. Twenty-one is a good age to make mistakes that will make you laugh in the future."

"Are you actually encouraging me to smoke?"

"I'm encouraging you to keep on living your life. It matters to me."

The younger man nodded in silence.

"And as for now," Shikaku added, "please think about your future customers and don't smoke inside too much."

"I won't. Thanks for your concern."

As his dad gave him a smile, Shikamaru threw the rest of his cigarette out of the window and walked to the counter. He did not exactly know how long it would take for them to put everything in order in the shop. '_Not much_', he hoped. They did not plan on changing the beige wallpaper, the wooden counter and shelves matched the door perfectly, and Shikamaru somehow adored the antique lights on the ceiling. It was saving the two men a few big chores at the least. Still, they had to polish the wood, fill the shelves with logic and visual taste, clean the place and, most importantly, determine whether or not the young man was ready for it all. That was quite a lot to take for him, after all. A shop, customers, a tiny apartment on the floor upstairs... It was a lonely path. He was not used to it anymore.

Shikaku was aware that his son was getting better, in his own way. That he had started to eat enough again, talk to people again, sleep long enough again. Hence, when the lad had come one morning to tell him that he had bought an old coffee shop at the boarder of the city with the money he had left in order to transform it into a discrete tea shop, Shikaku had been content with nodding and letting it go. He was still worried. Of course. He could not hide it, but he tried his best.

"You know I can help you here, son, right?"

"Yeah. I know."

"Work is pretty much staying at home all day and doing paper work, now. A few hours here every day would do no harm, really, so please swear to me you'll call when you'll need me."

"I swear."

"Swear and _mean_ it."

"I swear, and I mean it. I will, dad. Thanks."

Shikamaru smiled while opening a box full of Chinese green tea packs. Shikaku could not help but notice his son's wedding ring was still firmly wrapped on his left ring finger. Its grey shine seemed gloomy. The man wondered where Temari's ring had disappeared, but did not voice it out. He nodded and let it go.

* * *

"Are you sure, for the curtains?"

They had sat behind one of the table. Shikamaru had made a pot of Sacher tea for them two. Now that the shelves were full and one boiler plugged in, they were taking a break. Fairly speaking, they had not accomplished much. It was already four in the afternoon. They had changed the way to organize the tea packs three times already, what almost seemed like a game they had tacitly agreed to play that particular day.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I wanna see what's outside, so there's no need for longer ones. Plus, that way, the shop will be brighter."

"How about thieves?"

"It's just a tea shop. Nothing interesting. And you did not train me up to a jujitsu black belt to later question my self-defense abilities, or did you?"

"No, I didn't. Short curtains are fine."

After that they did not speak for about twenty minutes. They also forgot to pour tea in their cups. It just kept on getting colder by the second, mimicking the atmosphere between the two men, unsure of what to tell. Shikamaru brought his hands on the right side of his neck, stroking it gently. He looked a bit tired. Shikaku softly asked:

"Feeling ready?"

"Not really. I'm sure you can tell. But now or later would never be the right time anyway, so at this rate, it better be now."

"Why?"

"I never did things on time before, did I? That is, until recently. 'Cause I was forced to, as you know. It bothered me so much, on top of the depth of anger I've flirted with since she's gone. I'm not made for things happening on time. It's too mechanical. It just freaks me out."

"Take it easy. Things will fall at their right place, eventually. And you will, too."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"If it's okay for you, I'd like to spend the night here alone. To get used to it."

"I understand. I'll leave soon."

"It's not what I meant, dad… It's nice to have you here."

"I know, I know. But I got old while you were busy becoming a man. My body needs more rest."

"Oh, yeah… Sorry. We can continue tomorrow. There's no hurry, really. I can open the shop anytime. I did not advertise the event, so no one expects it but me."

"I'll bring some board game, tomorrow. Like shôgi or go. You need to relax between hours of work, okay?"

"You're worried."

"I am."

"Thanks, dad. I'm happy you're here."

The tea had got too cold. They drank it anyway.

* * *

_As a confession_, I had this story in mind for quite a while. It's nice to finally write it down.

The song used as the chapter title, 'Michiyuki', was performed by Kaori Hikita. If you've never heard it, both album and live versions, even though different, are definitely worth listening!

_Thank_ _you_ already to anyone who'll review it~

Until next time, -_Mirkku_.


	2. Future, with nostalgia

******Disclaimer**: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto.

_This chapter is twice as long as the previous one. It was not easy to write, but it helped me deal with stress quite well._

_Things start to move for Shikamaru! New characters, old acquaintances. Oh, and a lot of tea...! Enjoy~_ :)

* * *

**Second Cup – _Future, with nostalgia_**

"Thank you for this tea. It was the right choice indeed. What is it?"

"Nice to hear it is to your liking. This is the finest Sacher blend I've tasted myself – a mix of Darjeeling, Earl Grey and jasmine flowers. Some other teas of this kind also use Ceylon leaves and vanilla powder, which gives it a sourer feel. Either way, it is not a very good morning tea due to its mild flavor, but it works miracles in between meals. It eases the mind."

It was a rainy Monday afternoon, yet the teashop was quite bright and lively. Deem lights on the ceiling were spreading warm shades on the walls and tables, softening the atmosphere. The sound of the drops on the windows was soft. The street seemed empty. Shikamaru, sat behind the counter, was playing with watercolors on a wide, empty canvas. Traces of green paint showed on his left cheek. He had tamed his hair in a loose chignon and was wearing a discrete black outfit. The cigarettes were nowhere to be seen. The teashop had opened that very morning and the two customers Shikamaru had welcomed a bit earlier were a nice company, despite their obvious lack of interest in working on a common study paper.

The young man Shikamaru had exchanged a few words with had even longer hair than his. Pale eyes, stern look, fine clothes – on that matter, they were nothing alike. He was sitting straight, holding his cup gently. His tone was smooth and composed.

"I see," he replied in a smile. "So you don't just own a teashop, you actually have some knowledge about it."

"Neji, aren't you done stating the obvious now? Please move back to our WIPO review. I want it done fast, I don't have all day."

Shikamaru looked over the counter. Unlike his study partner, the other man clearly was not in the mood for anything. His tea cup, on the table, was getting cold. His short black hair was still damp; he had apparently forgotten to carry an umbrella. His formal clothes, annoyed pout and deep dark eyes were giving him a gloomy look.

Neji shook his head, sighed in embarrassment.

"Sasuke… Please excuse him," he apologized. "He doesn't always know where his friendly manners lay."

"Oi…"

Shikamaru nodded.

"It's okay," he calmly answered. "He is right, though, you should finish this paper. Perhaps another cup of tea would encourage you to do so?"

"It sounds like a good idea. Thank you."

Shikamaru stood up, poured water in the boiler. He then climbed on a stool, reached one of the highest shelves and withdrew the Oolong Jade jar. Neji and Sasuke were reading in silence. Their boredom was almost amusing to Shikamaru. He prepared the tea pot and sat back behind his canvas, now filled with pale colours forming a cloudy sky. For a few minutes, only the rain muttering its song echoed in the room. Sasuke finally groaned, closed his eyes, put his left hand on his forehead and mumbled:

"Alright. I'm done reading."

"Soon there, too."

"Do we discuss the plan, divide it, write the report home and put it in common tomorrow?"

"You really want to go home, don't you?"

"Desperately."

Shikamaru grabbed two clean tea cups and the tea pot, slowly moved toward his customers' table. The hot beverage steamed the air as he filled the cups. Sasuke frowned.

"I know," Shikamaru spoke, "the smell is special. But I think you will like it."

"Why do you?"

The lad did not answer and, instead, presented Neji his new cup.

"Thank you," the young man said, bowing his head.

"On the house."

"Ah… No! You don't have to…"

"It's okay. You two are my first customers, actually. Please consider it a gift for being a part of this shop's history."

"You're kind. Thank you again. I think you'll see me quite often. Sasuke too, maybe."

"Hn…". The moody student seemed unsure about how to react to Shikamaru's offer.

"Anyway, we are studying in the university K, a few streets away. We're both close to complete our bachelor in International Business."

"I didn't know there was a campus in this part of the city…"

"Well, it's a private one…" Neji sounded slightly bitter. Shikamaru knew better than to ask why.

About thirty minutes and three cups of tea later, the two students were done with their report plan. Neji, an umbrella in his hand, wrote down his phone number on the customers' notebook placed on the counter.

"Your conversation is nice," he simply stated, "so please write me from time to time. I'd like to know more about teas and this shop. I'll be sure to come back."

He thanked a confused Shikamaru one more time, then left. Sasuke adjusted his coat. Facing the shop owner, he nodded silently. The long-haired man nodded back.

"Wait a second," he said before disappearing in the stairs, behind the shelves. He came back with a grey umbrella he put in the hands of the student. "Here," he smiled. "You'll catch a cold otherwise."

"Eh, I don't need you to…"

"It's fine. You'll give it back to me one day, and I'll offer you a cup of that Oolong tea."

"That's ridiculous," Sasuke growled. "I would be giving back _your_ umbrella, after causing _you_ troubles, so why offering me tea?"

"I told you, didn't I? You are part of this shop's history now. It comes with benefits." Shikamaru paused a little, added: "_Tea_ benefits, that is. Sorry for the confusion."

"Yeah, it's fine…"

"You liked it, didn't you? The tea…"

"Not even."

Shikamaru smirked. '_Sure you did'_. For a while, the two men just stood there. In the end, Sasuke sighed, bowed slightly and walked toward the street. The rain had got softer.

* * *

The bedroom ceiling was too white, or so it appeared to Shikamaru. His back was resting on the floor. He avoided the bed. Not even once since he had moved in, the young lad had dared trying to sleep elsewhere than where he was just now, for the soft mattress seemed like a monster ready to give him nightmares he had felt lucky to avoid within the past few weeks. He could sleep alone, yes. But not in beds just yet. That was too much to ask, and he hoped his father would never know about it.

He felt the vibration of his cell phone in his pocket, picked it up. Sighed. It was about time.

"_Same bar than usual, asap. –Kankurou_"

He did not know how to feel about the situation. Since Temari was gone, he had barely talked to her two younger brothers. Something got broken. Like a rusted cog. Her bones on the ground after her free flight had become the newly installed model of friendship frames between the three young men. As far as Shikamaru knew, Gaara had left the family house the very day his sister had wilted. Kankurou had been but anger and violence after that and even Shikaku, whom the young man had considered a substitute father for years, had not been able to reach him since.

Shikamaru did not want to get up. _The bedroom ceiling was too white_. Like an automat, he typed his father's cell phone number on the small keyboard, placed the device near his left ear. Perhaps painted clouds would make things easier.

"Shikamaru? How are you?"

Clouds with green, blue and yellow highlights.

"Kankurou texted me. He'd like to meet up in the bar we all used to go before."

"Ah, well… Today was quite a day, uh? The shop, Kankurou…"

"What should I do?"

"Go."

He shut his cell phone, closed his eyes and grabbed a lighter and a cigarette. _Quite a day indeed_.

* * *

The rain had stopped in the meantime, leaving room for a bright sky to display a warm palette of colours where September sun was starting to hide. It was about eight o'clock when Shikamaru arrived in front of H. This typical Irish pub was noisy as always, despite the early hour.

The young man waved a sign at the barman, who immediately raised his chin to indicate the other side of the room. Apart from everybody else, right under the rough light of a lamp, Kankurou was waiting. His short red hair was messier than ever. He looked tired; a bit drunk, too. He was biting his lips, most probably trying to calm down the rage he had not yet pulled himself away from.

Shikamaru sat down right in front of his friend, without a single word. He did not dare to look at him.

"I'm sorry I punched you, that day," he heard him mumble. "You did not deserve this."

"It's okay."

"Gaara went back home, three days ago. He saw me drunk and literally beat the shit out of me. My ribs are still so sore…"

"Didn't you deserve it?"

"I dunno… Maybe, yeah. I haven't thought straight in weeks."

Something was off. Almost dangerous. Shikamaru shivered as he felt a panic attack vaguely flirting with his nerves. He took a deep breath. Exhaled slowly. After a few minutes spent detailing the table, he cautiously asked:

"Did you want to talk to me about something or were you looking for a drinking buddy?"

"Both, I guess."

"Sorry, but I won't drink tonight."

"What did you do to stand up again?"

He sounded desperate. Shikamaru considered a possible answer for a while. It was not as if he had done much, yet Kankurou was a bit unstable. The right choice of words was difficult to assess. In the end, the lad muttered:

"I've opened a tea shop."

"You've fucking run away."

With that, Kankurou stopped talking for the rest of the evening.

* * *

It was one in the morning when Shikamaru reached his room and let his body collapse on the floor. For hours, he had watched Kankurou getting deeper into despair and anger, picking up vain fights, and ultimately crying his heart out. Shikamaru had already drifted away, inside. He had called a cab for his friend, had helped him getting in and given far enough money to the driver just in case Kankurou had no more. He then headed back to the teashop.

Shikamaru avoided glancing at the ceiling. _Not again, not now_. He had had enough of this white for the day. It took him a couple of minutes to realize he was silently crying. Exhaustion caught him up. He wiped the tears away and got up too fast, causing him to flinch a bit. He needed to calm things down. This he knew and got used to.

He walked down the stairs, looking at his phone. Gaara had texted him a simple '_sorry_' moments before, probably on the behalf of his brother. Shikamaru sighed and let it go. At least Kankurou had come home safe. It was all that mattered.

He boiled water and poured tea in a small bag. He needed to relax. On the lowest shelf, he took his favourite mug, filled it without haste and put it on the counter. The notebook was still open. Neji's handwriting was small and constant. Shikamaru hesitated a moment, before pushing the notebook away. He then placed, near the mug, the tea pot in which pale green coloured tea remained, added the jar he had taken the leaves from behind the small setting. He took a picture with his phone, entered Neji's number as the receiver. Blamed it on his tiredness. Finishing his cup, ten minutes later, he absently typed a small text to send together with the picture.

"_This is Pai Mu Tan, or Bai Mu Dan, a white tea I don't drink much. Definitely not my type of thing. It's tasteless in the morning, a bit dull in the afternoon and far from a nice shot in the evening. Yet, it remains a nice late nights' buddy. At least that's what I believe in. –Shikamaru_".

He carried his re-filled mug upstairs, glanced at the bed. _Not tonight. Not yet_. He dragged the blanket over the thin carpet at the center of the room, left the mug and his phone on his desk and went to the bathroom. He was washing his face when the vibration of the phone receiving a text, amplified by the desk material, caused him to skip a heartbeat. He came back to his room, turned the light off, took his phone and got under the blanket. It was going to be a long night. He knew it. He had stopped pretending it could be otherwise. Ready to spend hours trying to chase some sleep, he opened his phone and read the screen in the dark.

"_I feel ashamed, because right now, I am drinking coffee. My late nights' buddy is not as good as yours. Next time I'll visit you, I'd like to try this white tea. What do you think can complete it well? Biscuits? Milk? I guess I have to find it out on my own. It sounds like an adventure, so thank you for your text. By the way, I was not sure if I should have asked, but considering the ring, I do assume that you are married?… –Neji_."

A long, long night.

* * *

_**The title of this chapter has been borrowed from one of the latest Londead's songs. Please check this awesome project out! :)**_  
**Until next time, -_Mirkku_.**


	3. Sans faire un bruit

******Disclaimer**: Naruto © Masashi Kishimoto.

_I thought Gaara would show up in this chapter, but last minute changes delayed his moment to shine. Sorry about that! On a better note, chapter 4 is already on its way and should be completed quite soon. :) Much more Neji to come! There should always be more.  
_

_I would like to thank people who reviewed the previous chapter. It meant much to me and you all were so kind, so thank you, guys! *bows* I'll try my best to make this story better and better. Reviews and suggestions are warmly welcome and always appreciated~! People following the story, my kindest thoughts are also all for you. Please review sometimes, I'd like to hear from you all! :)  
By the way, (white) tea of the day was Rose and Raspberry. Best served with berries sorbet or smoothie, of course...  
_

* * *

**Third Cup – _Sans faire un bruit_**

He was walking around, a wide grin glued to his lips. A malicious one. His blue eyes were wandering from the floor to the ceiling, his messy blond hair betraying his wild side. In his white sweater and blue denim pants, he seemed a bit too modern for the teashop, and so did the huge camera he was carrying in his hands. He was absently playing with the lens. He had barely glanced behind the counter since he had entered the shop. Shikamaru was not even sure the young man had spotted him so far. Probably not. Yet, he did not choose to disturb the curious customer, remained silent and kept on pretending to read his notebook with a certain interest.

It was a cold Thursday morning. Light coming from the outside was plain white, the clouds grey, the air smelling of rain. Shikamaru could feel it all. He had slightly opened one of the windows at dawn and had closed it late enough for the smell to stay. He needed to relax. To space out for a while. After he had met Kankurou, the week before, the dark-haired lad had been constantly nervous, restive. He had not slept much in days. His bedroom ceiling was a growing nightmare he could no longer stand. Nights were long, like mere shadows. Since dawn, that day, Shikamaru had been staring at blank pages, holding onto something invisible, quiet.

"Shikamaru… right?"

The blond photographer was right in front of the counter, smiling kindly. Shikamaru gave him a careful look, softened quickly.

"That's my name," he answered with a smirk. "Pardon me, for I do not know yours."

"Oh, yeah, sorry…" The boy chuckled. "I forgot my manners. That's Naruto Uzumaki, art student. It's nice to meet you."

Shikamaru nodded, eyes still set on his customer. _That_ was something new.

"Sasuke is sending me here," the boy went on. "He told me you could help with my ongoing project," he pointed at his camera, "as a model."

Something _very_ new.

"I am sorry," Shikamaru replied, "but I think I will pass. I am no model."

"T'is a nice ring you have there."

A silence. A heavy one. The dark-haired man stopped breathing for a few seconds. He closed the notebook and tried his best not to avert the blond man's deep blue eyes. _That_ _damn_ _shiny_ _thing_. Naruto sighed, shook his head, tightened his grip onto his camera. He looked a bit embarrassed, blushing faintly.

"My apologies," he said. "I never know when to shut up. What I mean is that you've got stories to tell and show, something I'd like to catch and spread around. You've got that relaxed attitude, but a sad haze embraces you. It's kinda fascinating – well, to me at the least. To Sasuke, too. He liked your tea, by the way."

He had spoken quickly, in one single shot. Shikamaru had bitten his tongue the whole time. A brief moment, he twisted and entwined his fingers, weighted the photographer's words. Despite the sparks of panic rushing through his nerves, he kept his composure, finally muttered:

"Naruto… _right_?" The student nodded. "It's okay. Please, do not apologize. You caught me a bit off-guard, that is all. I have heard of my ring a lot, lately, but it still remains a sensitive matter. I assume you've figured it out."

"Indeed. I shouldn't have mentioned it."

"Actually, I am glad you did. _You_ might be the one helping _me_. Please, tell me: if I pose for you, will I have to talk? If so, will you write my words down?"

"No. I mean, no, I won't write anything down." Naruto relaxed a little. "Not even your name, if you don't want me to. Sure I might ask you to talk about some personal things during the shoot, to show your true self, but nothing that'll echo outside of the studio walls. I'll print some copies of the pictures for your personal use, too. Any you'd find interesting... All of them, even. Being honest, I'm good at what I do."

His mischievous smile was back. The teashop owner considered his answer for a minute, before he replied:

"Very well, then. I will be your model."

"Yeah!," the student yelled in joy, clapping his hands once.

"Please write your phone number somewhere here," Shikamaru said as he handed out the notebook to his customer. "My schedule is difficult to predict right now, unfortunately."

"Uh, yeah…" Naruto seemed a bit embarrassed. Confused, almost. "Sorry", he laughed lightly, "but I don't own a phone. I mean, not yet. You can contact Sasuke, though – we're roommates."

The dark-haired man behind the counter raised an eyebrow. Quite a bunch of _new_ _things_, that day. While he could not imagine how the two students would get along so well they would at least _consider_ sharing a flat, he restrained himself to express his doubtful thoughts aloud. He bowed his head slightly, stated:

"Very well. In such case, maybe _I_ should give you my number. Sasuke might appreciate not being forced to stand my written babbling at random times." He cut a page from the notebook, scribbled his phone number on it. "There you go," he grinned, " but please do not spread it around, for my churlish manners might prove themselves under the expectations of people hearing of me."

Naruto chuckled as he grabbed the paper held for him.

"Dude, I've got no idea what '_churlish_' means, but you seem just fine. Really."

"Thank you. Now, how about a cup of tea?"

"I never drink such things, actually. I'm a soda lover. I came here for you, and also to buy a bag of this tea Sasuke had here. Geez, the dummy won't even get his own ass out there to order some by himself…"

Shikamaru found it amusing, in some way, but kept his mouth shut. He poured a hundred grams of the Oolong Jade tea in a small bag, closed it and came back in front of the student, who had already put money on the counter. Shikamaru frowned.

"That is too much," he said.

"Take it, I insist," Naruto replied kindly. "That's for the tea and for the bother."

"You did not bother me."

"Whatever. I gotta go now, but we stay in touch, right?"

"Yes, we do. We will meet again. Would you please say '_hello_' to Sasuke for me?"

"I will."

As the blond young man closed the teashop door behind him to escape through the streets, Shikamaru let out a sigh. His chest was still heavy from his earlier panic. He closed his eyes. Intertwined his fingers. Repressed the wish to light a cigarette. Small reasons had pushed him to accept Naruto's request. He was not exactly sure he was comfortable with the idea, but so far, nothing had worked for him to step out of numbness.

There was no worthless try.

* * *

_Even though I am living in Finland since years, I was born and raised in France. The title of this chapter comes from one of Cécile Corbel's songs, and means 'Without making any sound'. A poetic way to say 'silently' or 'under cover'._  
_Thank you for reading - and maybe reviewing! Much love and stuff._ :)  
- Mirkku.


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